


From Salt and Sugar

by Vulpeculara



Series: From Salt and Sugar [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arlathan (Dragon Age), Dragon Age - Freeform, Dragon Age Spoilers, Dragon Age Universe, Elf Culture & Customs, Elf times, Evanuris bits, F/F, F/M, M/M, OC is actually the teacher this time, Slow Burn, Spoilery Spoilers, this will eventually be extremely dramatic im sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24186919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulpeculara/pseuds/Vulpeculara
Summary: The assignment came to her in the start of the spring. A simple paper slipped under her door. No warning, no talking. That is what things had become. Just another assignment.They were never assignments to her."A new one," it had said. "It's hot headed."But that's not all he was. All he would be.He was rash. Impulsive. Curious to learn more. Passionate. Loving. Possessive. Creative. Cool and warm. Bitter and fun. Timid and lively. Multifaceted. Always prideful in some way.But before all that he wasn't simply just hot headed. Before he realized he was a he and not an it. No, he was also inquisitive. Always wanting to know why. She had never been asked why so many things were the way they were. Not even when Interest had been reborn.And now she was to help Pride be reborn an Arlathan elf.
Relationships: Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s), Probably more later - Relationship
Series: From Salt and Sugar [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745638
Comments: 10
Kudos: 3





	1. The First Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I hope this idea hasn't been done before. It's best to go into this story having a general knowledge about Arlathan and Dragon Age. Spoilers for the DA Universe eventually, probably. Enjoy!

The assignment came to her in the start of the spring. A simple paper slipped under her door. No warning, no talking. That is what things had become. Just another assignment.

They were never assignments to her. 

"A new one," it had said. "It's hot headed." 

But that's not all _he_ was. All _he_ would be.

He was rash. Impulsive. Curious to learn more. Passionate. Loving. Possessive. Creative. Cool and warm. Bitter and fun. Timid and lively. Multifaceted. Always prideful in some way. 

But before all that he wasn't simply just hot headed. Before he realized he was a _he_ and not an _it_. No, he was also inquisitive. Always wanting to know why. She had never been asked _why_ so many things were the way they were. Not even when Interest had been reborn. 

And now she was to help Pride be reborn an Arlathan elf. 

The first Pride she had ever worked with. She had encountered spirits of that nature before, but not this one in particular. Since Interest, Mythal wanted her to not meet them before their shift. _Scared them too much,_ she said. _Makes them too depressed. Longing for something they can no longer have._

Would a prideful natured man ever feel sadness over his situation? Would a prideful natured man ever regret?

She felt a mix of emotions. The first that came to her was anxiety, as it so often naturally did. It was a raw and primal instinct that ate away at her insides if she let it. A wave she had to constantly be on guard for. A thorny vine that grew and wrapped itself around her legs should she stand too comfortable for too long. She always had to fight to keep it at a distance to her liking. It caused her to wonder many things. _What if I say something wrong?_ _What if I fail? What if I-..._

What followed was happiness. Happy that she was still considered best for the job. It was a rising occupation. She was lucky to be the first of its kind. But she would never be the last. 

And last came eagerness. A new start. She would be helping form a person into a person. It came in a tingly weight that sat directly in her stomach. A weight that turned into a gas and threatened to lift her up from the safety of the ground. 

Her job was never easy. It was tough from the beginning, but she loved doing it. She trusted only herself and a few others to properly lay down the necessary foundation. But let it be known that no situation was the same; each converted spirit responded differently to being reborn. Even those of the same nature. The first few times, this made her feel assuredly that what they were doing was good. Was right. They were making real people from simple spirits. People that could feel multiple moods, that had strengths and weaknesses, flaws and imperfections. People that wanted things. People that created and built and sang songs. People that established their views on right from wrong. That loved or hated dancing the rain. That laughed or cried when they fell. _That is to be a real person_ , she thought. _To be all of these things._

But what they had been doing wasn't perfect. It was a new science, after all. A new field of exploration set out by Mythal. Turning spirits to people. 

At first they said none could do it. That it wasn't possible. Chasing something that could never exist. When she proposed the idea, the Evanuris scoffed at Mythal, claiming that pursuing it would simply be as foolish as sleeping in a mother bear's den. Or as pointless as trying to turn the sky green. No such magic of rebirth existed.

But Mythal proved them wrong, and in a great scandal, did so in front of the whole court of Evanuris. The looks on their faces. 

But what really mattered was the look on his. Valor was reborn. The first ever reborn. Strong and stubborn from the start, and still so confused. Born screaming a battle cry, running on all fours head first into a wall.

”So you see, I am capable,” Mythal spoke to the others. “These new things are mine. You are not to harm them. I will only update you out of decency how this little project of mine goes.”

A wail of terror engulfed the room. A yell from Valor. “ _Where!_?” 

“Valor?”

” _Where?!”_

He shivered. He was terrified. Confused. So, so confused.

There was, surprisingly, no backlash. Only fascination. Wicked thoughts about how these new creatures could be used. But Mythal would have none of it. These would be her beings and only hers, to do with as she bid. 

And it so in the end it worked, so to speak. There was only one little detail. One little thing she couldn't get just right. 

So far, the reformed reborn had never loved another. Their sense of self was only of themselves. Even placing reborn together was a failure.

_Was the answer to being real, to be able to be in love_? After all, she had never been in love. But she was still a real person, was she not? 

He would be waiting for her. The Sina'la. Newly changed. Now a person. Alone. 

In Mythal's Andaran'Ghilan-A place specifically made to welcome those who had been reborn. She had met and helped several more there before him. Though different, they always started the same. Remembering nothing. Confused. Not knowing what was going on. But they came out a person in the end. Someone ready to take on the real world. _That makes it worth it, right?_

Right?

_Maybe this one will be different_. _Maybe this one will be able to love. To start a family._ Not just become a member of society. 

But, baby steps first. Cautious steps. 

The journey for both of them was to begin. Each time frightening and freeing. 

The sunlit path was warm. The ground and grass almost hot to touch. Like if she were to touch stone, it would burn her. 

She liked it best when the ground was hot. It made her feel safer in a way, reminding her that she can't fall through it. That there was miles of ground beneath her. The heat like a hug on the bottoms of her feet.

But it also made memories echo in her mind. Flash like little snippets of moments. Ribbons twirling in her thoughts. Hunting with her brother. Hiding in the trees. Dancing in the sun. 

It reminded her that she was alive.

An Eluvian was now before her. Tall and golden. Seen from so far away. Pillars of the Elvhen technology. Though this particular one, young. Only 672 years old. The time and crafter's name inscribed at the bottom. 

It hummed. Made the ground vibrate beneath her.

She reached out and touched the metal. Her hand jerked back. 

Too hot. 

Steps through the murky mirror. Like a cool, sharp air washed over her. Touching every part of her.

Then, quiet on the other side. Peaceful. The sounds of birds chattering. 

The building stood before her. Large, in the middle of a forest. Location unknown to all except those Mythal trusted. 

He would be in here. Waiting. Waiting for her.

The large doors open by her hands pushing all their might. Everything was always grand in their world. 

He sat in the center of the empty room only lit by veilfire. Eyes wide and confused. Peering behind long brown hair. 

She took a step forward.

He leaned back. His hand touched the ground behind him. 

"Hello," she spoke. "Everything is going to be okay."

She took another step forward, and he reflexively moved back again. 

The doors closed naturally on their own. Moved by magic.

She decided it best to sit down where she stood. 

The floor cold against her bottom.

Eye level.

Silence filled the room.

Him watching her.

Her watching him.

"Hello," she said again. "You know a lot of the things I'm going to cover today. You just have never experienced them. Your senses."

He continued to stare.

"I brought you something. You probably are hungry and thirsty, and don't understand it quite yet." 

Loaves of bread and a jug of water removed from her pack. Light in one hand, the other heavy. 

She slid a loaf and the jug over to him. He jumped, but remained where he was. 

"Touch them. Notice they feel different in your hands. You can feel the weight of things, now."

He first hesitantly reached for the bread. A shaky hand picked it up. 

He squeezed too hard. The bread crushed in his fist.

He frowned and tossed it on the ground. 

"It's okay. It's still bread," she said. "It's meant to be crushed. You eat it. You know what eating is, you've just never done it before."

He picked it up again. This time more confident than the last. 

"You do it like this." She pinched the bread, pulling off a piece. It went into her mouth and she chewed it, pointing to her teeth. "Use your teeth to chew it up."

He mimicked the same. His eyes widened, and they looked to the bread in his hand.

"You can taste things now, too. Can you taste it?"

He nodded, and swallowed.

"See, it's easy to eat. Water will taste different, too. Everything will. Try the water."

He placed the bread down, and struggled to pick up the jug with a hand. 

"If you use both hands, it will be easier."

He tried using both, and found he had no problem lifting the jug. He drank from it, and his eyes widened again. 

She scooted closer to him. He no longer flinched.

"Do you remember being Pride?"

He placed the jug down and looked at her. Silent.

Then, not. "...Yes." His voice. Like velvet. No fear.

"That's a first," she said, perplexed. "You know you were a spirit, then?"

"Yes."

"You are in a body now. Do you realize that?"

"Yes."

"...You are no longer an it. You are a he." She ate some more of her bread. When was the last time she ate? 

"You'll need a name," she said. "What do you want?"

"A name?"

"Something to call you. You know what these terms mean, your memory just needs a little push."

"I am Pride."

She pointed to him. "You are no longer just a spirit. You are an elf. You are a _you_."

"An elf is a name?"

"I suppose it can be if you want it to, but that would be strange, because you are surrounded by elves. You need something to call you that makes you stand out. How else would you be different?"

"Different?"

"You are unique, Pride. You are no longer just Pride."

His face contorted. 

_He is trying really hard to understand._

"Many times you will be asked 'who are you?'. You can respond with how you wish to be called."

"Wish?"

"You have desires, no? Wants? Things you feel like doing?"

"...Yes."

"What do you feel like being called?"

"Solas."

She sighed. "You don't have to be called that, you know. You can be called something other than your spirit name."

"Solas."

_They're always the same in that regard._

"Solas it is, then." 

Her hand pointed to herself. "I'm Muris. I will be helping you become the Solas you want to be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, homies! :D


	2. Taste, Hear, Feel, Smell

“I wouldn’t do that.” Her voice came out cautionary. A phrase she had fruitlessly uttered many times before. It was usually followed by some unfortunate result.

He frowned. Stubborn. Unbelieving. 

"You won't like it. It's going to taste terrible." Pointless words drifting in the air. Words, for some reason, always ignored. 

Muris knew he was going to do it anyway no matter what she said. Learn the hard way. Learn for himself.

An act of defiance. His tongue raked across the chilled stone, picking up gravel and _who-knows-what-else_ along with it. 

It might as well have been electric.

He immediately sat up. _Confused_. _Betrayed_. The floor had been unkind to him. 

He stared at her with large eyes. Mouth agape. Tongue hanging out. Silent. 

_Adorable_ , she thought. "What, didn't believe me? Terrible, huh?"

A small smile formed on corners of her lips. “That’s why we usually don’t taste the floors around here. Perhaps next time you will listen.”

The situation caused her to chuckle. She had seen some outlandish things in the name of discovering the world before. Hands touching hot kettles. Noses straight into rotten food. Feet tapping on a puddle of blood. But never had she seen a Sina’la lick the floor.

Each reborn did some new humorous thing that she never imagined doing. It was one of the things she loved about her job: it was always something new every single day. And without fail, no matter how outlandish it was, it was always cute.   
  
His cheeks reddened, and his eyes retreated to the floor. Embarrassed. Eyes that showed he realized he should have taken her word for it.

“The sound is more forgiving than the taste,” she said. “Here.”

Her head touched the ground. Stone as cool as she expected it to be. It still gave her goose bumps across the sides of her arms. 

An ear particularly placed on the stone so that she could listen to the below.

“Lay your head down and meet my eyes, Solas.” She tried her best to sound calming. Trustworthy. 

For a moment, he hesitated. He was yet to be over the floor's mistreatment of him. A war was fought inside of his head. Neither side was winning. 

"It will be nice to listen to. I promise."

He decided to trust her this time.

His head laid on the ground. Mirroring her. Hands slid back and forth along it. Occasionally stopping at bumps and ridges. He was still experiencing how it felt to touch.

“See how my ear is pressed into the stone? You do the same. Listen to it.”

And then she heard it. The same sound she had heard since she was a child.

The hum. Calling to her. A loving whisper.

The ground was speaking. Some constant note. Soothing, never ending.

His eyes softened. He heard it too.

“Let this sound calm you if you ever feel nervous or overwhelmed. If everything is too much. It is always playing.”

“I am feeling,” he said, first shyly. “I am feeling.” Louder. More confident. 

“You are feeling many things today,” she said. “You won’t feel so much when you get used to it. But it is a lot at first.”

Flashes of memories again. Listening with her brother. Him telling her everything will be okay. Not to cry. _Listen to the ground, Muris_. 

“My brother and I used to make bets on if the sound would stop. Sometimes I would say it would. Sometimes he would say it would. But it never does stop…” Top teeth bit into her bottom lip. “It’s a constant, Solas. Sometimes constants can be nice, I think. They are something you can always guarantee to be there. And this one just makes you feel better.” His curious eyes had been watching the ground, as if it might move beneath him. Then met hers.

Even in the poor light she could clearly see the depth in them. A glowing, vibrant shade of blue. Full of wonder. Behind them, trust. 

Her face turned serious. “I will not be a constant, Solas. I cannot guarantee to always be right next to you. But I guarantee this: I will always be there when you call out to me. When you need help. Just say, ‘Muris, I need help.’ I will drop what I’m doing to help you, okay? That’s what I’m here for, to make things easier on you. To make _your transition_ easier on you.”

“…Thank you.”

"Know that there will be times when you are alone. Times when you are around lots of elves. Times when you will be around reborn like yourself. And sometimes, even people that are not your kind, like the humans. You may feel uncomfortable or at peace in different times. And that's okay. I feel uncomfortable in large crowds, but at peace in small gatherings like me and you. It just depends on who you are, and whoever you are is okay. Do you understand?"

A quick nod. His eyes returned to the floor. Distracted. 

“What is making the sound?” The first full sentence more than three words he had asked her. Progress. 

She moved to lay on her back. The hard surface did nothing to comfort her spine. It never did. She never could sleep on hard floors when she needed to. 

The ceiling was so tall and so dark that she couldn't see it. Like she could reach her hand out into nothingness when she lifted her hand above her eyes. If she tried hard enough, she could pretend it was an empty night sky. It would quickly vanish before her eyes. 

“Sometimes I think it’s just the sound the ground makes. It is alive, you know,” she responded, head turning to see him. “But to be honest, I’m not quite sure. I’d like to imagine it is the dwarves.” Her hand reached out in his direction, and fingers formed a pinch. “You know, the small guys? I imagine you’ve seen them before, in your past. You know they’re down below.”

She pointed to the ground. “I would bet there are dwarves beneath us right now,” she remarked. “Mining away. You can hear them sometimes. Laughing, talking, singing. Just like we do above the surface.”

Her back was already uncomfortable. She returned to her seated position, and he joined her.

“If you remember being a spirit, what do you remember?” She couldn’t keep herself from asking. The question had been nagging in the back of her mind. Begging. Reminding. _Ask, ask, ask_. 

“Nothing is solid,” He said. His brows furrowed, finding a way to describe it. “I remember everything solidly in this body. As a spirit, it is different.”

“I’d imagine. You were an entirely different creature.”

“The things you describe. I know them. But I don’t know them.” He frowned, looking increasingly frustrated.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to push yourself. A lot has happened for you today.”

“What is today? What does it mean?”

She had explained this several times before. But describing it never got easier.

“Do you remember the big ball of light in the sky? The sun?”

“…There were always lights. Lights everywhere.”

“Mmm. Well, there is a big one that you will see soon. It moves across the sky." She formed a fist with her left hand. "Imagine this is Thedas, where we are." She motioned at the air around her fist. "Now imagine this is the big space around it. It is my understanding that time does not feel like it exists for a spirit. Well, you can almost feel it pass as an elf. We measure its passing by the sun in the sky. It shows up for some time, and leaves for some time. So we have the concept of day, when the sun is there, and the night, when it is not. It will go across the space like this.” Her right hand formed a wide arcing motion over her left.

“…Yes. I remember.”

“You know of this, then? You just have never felt it.”

“I believe so.”

“So today is, well… Today is the day we are currently in. It is daytime now. Night is soon to come, in around six hours.”

“And an hour is a measurement of time?” 

“Yes. You were supposed to be taught these things as a spirit in preparation for what was to come. Though all do not remember learning it, it usually does help them understand it.”

“I remember learning it.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” His eyes widened at a sudden realization. “You did not teach me. Who did?”

“I… am not allowed to know, actually. I can tell you about those kinds of things later.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s a sort of… really complex issue. Today we are sticking to the simple things. Like this!”

Small hands dug around in the brown bag. Out came a jar full of various colors. The first intense colors he would have seen as an elf.

He cocked his head. An eyebrow raised. “It looks…”

“Different, huh? It’s pretty bland in this room, but it was purposefully designed so that you would not be too overwhelmed. I will be staying with you here until you are ready to leave. It’s a lot out there. I know you’ve seen it before. But it will be a lot to take in and process. That is why you are in this dark room at first.”

She pointed to the jar. "The world out there looks a lot like this jar. Strong colors, spirits and people are everywhere. A barrier has been placed so that only I may enter here for your protection. That's why you have not seen any spirits. And I know you’ve seen the outside world as a spirit, but every reborn has said it must be totally different to see it as an elf, as they are not familiar with the lands at all.”

“Looking at it makes me… feel,” he said, the first smile he had given her. Very small, but still noticeable. Success.

“I’d imagine you are feeling a little happy,” she said in return, satisfied. Accomplished. She had never caused them to smile on the first day.

 _He is going to be special_ , she thought. _He will be the first to fully succeed_.

She grinned. Wide. "Try to remember that the things you do can affect other people. See the smile on my face? _Yo_ _u_ are making _me_ happy."

"Why?"

"Because you are excelling at a fast pace already."

"Why?"

"Each person is different. Maybe this is one of your gifts."

"Gifts?"

"Yes. Everyone has special gifts of their own. Some are more... impacting than others. There are things you will be good at, and things you will be poor at."

"Why?"

"That's just how you are born. Or in your case, reborn."

He seemed satisfied for the time being. But his curiosity quickly began to wander. Wonder about her. 

"What are your gifts?" His lips pursed. 

"I can show you them later, when we get outside. But until then..."

She gestured to the jar in her hand. "It still gets better. Not everything tastes of floor and bread.” Her hand tightly clutched the rim of the jar, and twisted it.

A pop echoed throughout the chamber, and caused Solas to jump.

“Whoops,” she said sheepishly, “Should have warned you about that. Sorry.”

Her hand reached into the jar and pulled out some berries.

“These will taste different. They taste just as strong as they look.” She reached her hand out. “Take them from my hand. One at a time, so you can taste each one individually.”

He hesitated. Still timid. His hand moved. Cautious. Shaky.

A red one left her hand.

He tasted it. Then, shocked again. “Why?” he asked.

“Why what?”

“Why does it taste so strongly? And…I think I like it? How do I know if I do?”

“Would you want to eat it again?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Then I bet you like it,” she said, grinning again. “Some things just taste stronger and better than others. Or worse. Some may taste good to you, but others may not like it. See the green one?” She pointed to it. “I don’t like this one, but most do.” 

He tried it. Then scowled. “You don’t like this? Why not?”

“It just doesn’t taste good to me,” she said with a chuckle. “Why? Do you like it?”

“Yes, and you should, too,” Solas responded, anger carrying in his voice.

“Why is that?” She couldn’t help but give a big smile. The fire in his voice, which she found endearing, was warming her heart. She could already tell he was going to grow into someone who was incredibly passionate.

“Because it is good!” A loud retort. She briefly wondered if he would be so strongly passionate about everything if he were so passionate about liking berries. 

"Fine. I will try it again and see if it is." She reached in the jar and pulled out another, then had it herself. Sour. Hints of citrus carried after.

She scrunched up her nose. “Nope. Still don’t like it.”

“Maybe if you try it again?”

“You just haven’t had a food that you dislike yet. The floor doesn't count.” She lifted her hand. “Try the others.”

It didn’t take him long to gobble them up. One by one. Shock after shock. 

He liked all of them in the end. He wasn’t picky like she was. Each time he tried a new one, his eyes would light up. Innocent. Full of a spark. Full of life. Potential. What he would be. 

He became very excited to try new things when he realized how many foods existed in the Thedas. His eagerness gave her hope. He was promising. 

"There's also smelling. It's an important sense to have," she gestured to his hair. "Everyone has their own smell. Did you know that?"

He shook his head. 

"Your hair probably smells very distinct, as mine does. Do as I do."

She reached up and held a handful of her long hair, and put it to her nose to breathe it in. It carried smells of the woods. Cedar. 

He did the same with his own, followed by requesting to smell hers.

"Go ahead. But most people won't let you smell their hair unless you are intimate with them."

He first smelled his again in his left hand. Then smelled hers in his right.

"I like yours better," he said. "I would smell yours more."

She chuckled. "Thank you, I suppose. But you aren't going to be smelling mine a lot, I'll tell you that much."

She reached into her bag and pulled out several flowers.

"I picked these in my garden before I came to visit you."

She gently handed him a crystal grace bloom. 

"Don't eat it," she explained. "Just smell it. They're for looking at and smelling. Oh, and sometimes making potions, but you have to learn how to do that."

He smelled it and let out a content sigh. "I like this."

"Here, you can put it in your hair," she said. 

She took the flower from him and placed it so that it rested in his ear.

"Now your hair will smell like it."

She pulled out a few more for him to try. Among them were lilies, daisies and arbor blessing. One by one they went into his hair at his request.

She had to hold in a laugh. "You will be smelling lots of ways now."

She put her bag away. "Solas, there is an immeasurable amount of things to touch, hear, feel and smell. You will be learning them for a very long time. There are still things I have not experienced yet," she said.

"You are reborn?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm just an elf. But I had to learn and experience the world much like you do as I grew up."

"How long have you existed?"

She chuckled. "Do you know about numbers?"

He nodded. "As Pride, I know lots of numbers."

"Now you've got me curious. But that's for another conversation. It's good that you know numbers. That will make this a lot easier, then," she held out her hand, and pointed one finger. "So to give you some context, this is your first day being alive. One day, correct?"

He nodded again.

"About 360 of those make a year. I am considered very young. I am only 67 years old."

His face contorted in confusion. "That seems like a long time."

"Most elves are at least thousands of years old."

He drew in a quick breath. "Thousands?"

"Well. That time is considered to be the prime of your life, when you've really found yourself. We are immortal due to our magic. We can basically live forever unless we are killed."

"Magic? I know of that, I believe..."

"Spirits are magical themselves, in a way. You were brought into your body by magic. You will likely live and breathe magic as we all do. Can you feel it in the air, pressing against your body? It is like a tingling sensation."

He concentrated for a moment, then frowned. Thinking. "I was not feeling it until you mentioned it."

"You have gotten used to the feeling already. That is astounding and... very, _very_ good." 

"...It was the first thing I felt when I..." his voice trailed off and his eyes once more looked down to the ground. They moved to his hands, examining them. He moved his fingers, and slowly turned his hands over. It was as if it was the first time he was acknowledging that he _had_ hands.   
  
Muris swallowed. "All reborn say the same in that regard. Magic was the strongest thing they could feel. It was what they noticed first."

"You... Make things from magic." His voice carried a note of unsureness at the end, as if asking her to confirm. To make sure he remembered right. 

"Yes. We do lots of things with magic."

"I remember," he said.

She cupped his hands in hers, and to her surprise, he did not resist. He simply watched and waited to be led by her. 

"You have a body now," she said. "You only get one. Preserve it. Treat it well. Do not hurt it."

"Hurt it?"

"You will learn soon. With a body comes many good things, and pain is not one of them."

She lifted his hands to his chest. "Do you feel that thumping inside of you?"

His eyes widened and he looked to his chest, then her eyes. Confused. "What is that?" 

“That is your heart inside of you. As long as it beats, it will give you life. It _is_ you. It is _who you are,_ Solas. Guard it. Never lose yourself.”  
  
He only became more confused. 

She laughed. A real, genuine laugh. "Perhaps I have been speaking too metaphorically today."

"Do you also have one?"

"Yes, everyone does."

"It beats the same?"

"Just like yours."

He lightly smiled again. Perhaps it comforted him to not feel alone in his new world.

 _Another smile_ , she thought to herself. _Lots of victories today._

She returned his hands to his lap, and clapped hers together.

"I don't ever do this. Let it be said that this has never happened in the history of my guiding." She stood up, and held out her hand. "Walk with me? You can use my hand to help you stand up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the delayed chapter. I have been MASSIVELY planning out this story, and I'm excited to say that I have lots and lots in store for it! I have planned more for this than any other thing I've written before, so I plan to really flesh this out. I even made a huge timeline that's definitely going to grow as I write along. 
> 
> I want to write a story that shows I was thinking of the end in the beginning. You know, like the kinds you look back on and go like, "How could I have not picked up on that the first time?!" kind of thing. I hope I can give that same feeling eventually! So this means I plan for the series to be long, and it could take a while to write (like The Tale of Two Heralds in length, probably). 
> 
> What do you guys think of having an art before every chapter? I like it, but it feels a bit ambitious. Plus my art isn't toooo great... But I think it's fun to look at. To have something to look forward to, to go along with the chapter. But it does mean that it will be a longer time between chapters. Lemme know what you think!'^^
> 
> NaNoWriMo is coming up! That means more writing time for me :) Anyone wanna be friends on there and encourage each other?! There's also ArtFight coming, too! I plan to participate in both. 
> 
> Also, how about those DA4 3 teaser scenes day before yesterday?! I better get my butt writing this story out and finished before DA4 is released :'D. 
> 
> Stay tuned!

**Author's Note:**

> An idea for a story like this came to me as I was standing around the microwave waiting for a frozen meal to finish. :P I suddenly felt the strong urge to type it out, and my creative spurts are random and don't last long, so I rushed to type it out. Let me know what you think :D!


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